


Quite the Treat

by maddaddam



Series: Jeanmarco Week 2016 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Living Together, M/M, post-college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddaddam/pseuds/maddaddam
Summary: Marco has a bad day at work, Jean does his best to cheer him up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, Noot and I are teaming up and y'all have to deal with it. Check out the [awesome art](http://pololotp.tumblr.com/post/151994278577/day-2-of-the-jm-week-treat) this one shot is based off of!

_I need two flavors of ice cream, a four month vacation, and a basket full of puppies_ , Marco thinks to himself just before stepping off the overcrowded city bus. He grumbles to himself once his annoyingly clean work shoes connect with freezing water instead of the sidewalk he had planned on stepping on. Great. Just great. 

Normally, Marco would be a little more positive about his surroundings. He’d find the good in the bad until nothing seemed wrong or awful or out of place. He’d tell himself that stepping in the icy water of the puddle was a virtue because his shoes were getting dirty and they needed to be washed anyway. Any other day, he’d say that work wasn’t so bad, or that the bus ride wasn’t terrible, but today he doesn’t feel like putting up with his own cheerfulness. 

Marco keeps his head hung low as he meanders down the sidewalk to his apartment complex, rain still soaking his hair and tee-shirt despite the hood he pulls up to cover himself. Part of him wonders if there’s any point in keeping it up at this point - since it’s clearly useless - but the more rational part of his brain berates him for even proposing such a sacrilegious suggestion. _You’ll get a cold and you’ll have to spend Halloween in bed, dummy_. 

He sighs. The apartment building is only a block away, but the reminder of the upcoming holiday forces his legs into overdrive and he’s at the front door before he knows it. Halloween is Jean’s favorite holiday, of course. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he missed out on it? Marco yanks open the door to the complex, opting to take the stairs instead of waiting the millenia necessary for the elevator to arrive at the lobby. He takes a sharp left at the top of the stairs until he’s face to face with the door to the shared apartment. 

“Hey, babe. How was work?” are the first words Marco hears upon entering the one bedroom flat. Any other day, he’d respond with a cheerful greeting and a detailed description of his work, but it’s a Monday and it’s raining and the bus driver was hitting on him and all Marco wants is to collapse on the couch with Jean by his side. So instead of providing his boyfriend with an answer, Marco simply grunts, pulls off his soaked rain jacket, and collapses. Fortunately, he makes it to the couch before doing so. 

“That bad, huh?” Jean asks and Marco tries to pinpoint where exactly his voice is coming from. The kitchen? The bedroom? He doesn’t care, and decides to let Jean know by holding his arms out above his head so that no matter where his boyfriend is in the apartment, he’ll be able to see Marco’s silent plea for snuggles. A snort followed by the sound of a door closing echoes around the apartment and he can’t help but laugh at Jean’s complacency. The sound of footsteps approaching reaches his ears shortly thereafter and Marco rolls on his side to make room for the boyfriend he knows is coming. 

“Alright, mopey. Spill,” Jean says, sliding up behind Marco and wrapping his wiry arms around the taller man’s waist. “Oh, ew you’re all wet!” He exclaims when the hug proves to be much damper than expected. 

“It’s raining,” Marco supplies unhelpfully. He can imagine his boyfriend rolling his eyes behind his back at the obvious statement, but he doesn’t care. The sudden warmth flooding his body at Jean’s proximity is more than enough to shut him up. 

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” the man in question mumbles, burying his nose in the fabric of Marco’s soaked tee-shirt in spite of his complaints. “Now, you gonna be sarcastic or are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” 

Marco sighs dramatically before answering. 

“Work was crumby,” he says, “and it’s raining. And it’s Monday. _And_ tomorrow’s Halloween.” 

“That last one seems pretty good to me,” Jean laughs. It’s Marco’s turn to roll his eyes now. 

“I guess. It’s just that you like dressing up and getting in the spirit of the season so much and I haven’t had time to even think about that stuff with how busy work has been recently. I feel kinda bad,” he says, rolling onto his back as he speaks. From his new position he has a rather clear view of the cieling fan, but not a very good view of the boyfriend curled up next to him. _Good_ , Marco thinks, _I don’t wanna look at him. It’ll only make me feel more guilty about not dressing up_. 

“Hmm. I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much about that, babe,” Jean shifts next to him, trying to look into Marco’s eyes, but Marco turns his head away in embarrassment. He really should’ve tried harder this year. 

“Jean, I don’t even have a costume,” he laughs bitterly, still avoiding Jean’s gaze. It’s only once he feels a pair of hands wrapping around his own that he looks up, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes before scanning over the rest of him. 

“Um...what are you wearing?” It’s a good question, really. Jean’s outfit definitely isn’t his average get-up and Marco sits up to examine it further. The shirt catches his attention first, for obvious reasons. The first of which being that it is neither a band tee, nor is it black. Instead, Jean wears a rather frilly white blouse with an impressive collar and intricate folds around the wrists. His pants are also rather unusual, seeing as they aren’t jeans or sweatpants, but Marco supposes his usual trousers would look pretty tacky with the extravagant shirt anyway. 

“You like it?” Jean asks, rolling off the couch and standing up in front of Marco so he take in the entire outfit, “Got it from the thrift shop.” 

“Mmhmm,” Marco responds. He’d come up with a more articulate answer under normal circumstances, but the way the pants leave so little to the imagination is kind of making his mouth dry up and he doubts his ability to speak without sputtering like an idiot. 

“Good,” Jean purrs, definitely catching onto Marco’s growing embarrassment, “because I got one for you too.” At this, Marco lets out a surprised noise that might be a gasp or hiccup but sounds more like a squeak. _Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god_. 

“What - I mean why?” he says instead of voicing his panic. His cocky boyfriend smiles down at him, though his smirk is as sinister as it is loving and affectionate. 

“I know work has been really rough lately, so I just assumed you wouldn’t have time to do something for yourself,” Jean shrugs, reaching behind the couch and pulling out a plastic bag that may have once held their weekly groceries but now holds Marco’s supposed Halloween costume. Gently, the taller of the two prys the bag from his boyfriend’s grip and looks inside. The bag holds a shirt and pair of pants, similar in style to Jean’s but ever so slightly larger and different in color. Instead of white, Marco’s shirt is pink and lacks the high collar that Jean’s shirt has. 

“That’s really thoughtful of you,” Marco whispers, grateful and overcome with all the emotion he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. It hits him full force rather suddenly, and he tries his best to keep his radiant smile to a minimum so he doesn’t blind the entire apartment building with his excitement. 

Jean mumbles something in agreement - though Marco doesn’t exactly catch whatever it is, too preoccupied with the fabric in his hands to listen carefully - and sits beside his boyfriend. Marco immediately wraps his arms around the man, unaware and uncaring of the wrinkles he’s making in Jean’s shirt in the process. Jean immediately follows suit and they find themselves curled up on the couch once again. 

As per usual, Jean interrupts the comfortable silence with his brash personality. Marco would be upset with it if he weren’t so darned in love with him. 

“So, you gonna put on a little show for me?” he whispers into the short hair near Marco’s ear. The proximity should be more than a little thrilling, but it just makes the taller man giggle because it’s so out of the blue and so incredibly _Jean_. 

“Don’t tell me you bought me a new outfit just to get into my pants,” Marco groans, though there’s no animosity behind it. 

“Mmm, only the best for you, babe,” Jean murmurs, kissing gently along the curve of his boyfriend’s jaw. The both laugh. 

“Fine. Consider this your Halloween present,” Marco declares. Suddenly, he stands - grabbing the plastic bag and pushing his grumpy boyfriend off as he does. Jean protests weakly behind him, but Marco pays him no attention and marches right into the bathroom down the hall without a second thought. 

“What? Marco! Get back here!” the grump on the couch says, footsteps pounding on the floor shortly thereafter. Jean knocks on the door, mildly out of breath. “Get out here, you tease!” 

“Looks like you’ll have to be patient if you want your present, Jean,” Marco says, opening the door to the bathroom ever so slightly and revealing the pouty expression on his face. Tempted by the sight, Jean nudges the door open just a little more so he can press his lips against Marco’s in a chaste imitation of a kiss. He reaches for the knob and closes the door before his boyfriend in the bathroom has time to protest. 

“You better make it worth the wait, Marco!” he calls and Marco can practically see his boyfriend in his mind’s eye; standing just outside the door, arms crossed, confident smirk on his lips. It makes his heart flutter just a little bit. 

“Don’t worry,” he responds, hands fisting in the fabric of his tee-shirt and yanking it over his head. He spares a glance at the closed door of the bathroom and smiles to himself at the bright outcome to his day. 

“Don’t worry,” he says again, “I’m sure it’ll be quite the _treat_.”


End file.
